


Taoshay

by SableR



Series: The Way Home [3]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Caretaking, Epilogue, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-16 14:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10573473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SableR/pseuds/SableR
Summary: taoshay (n): an angaran term for a lover.Dying (several times) sucks, and leaves Fiona Ryder in no mood to party after her victory over the Archon.  Jaal notices, and takes it upon himself to make her feel better.  My take on Andromeda's epilogue, because no one should recover from dying that fast!  Spoilers for the whole game, and Jaal's romance specifically.





	1. Chapter 1

Final verdict: dying sucked.  Obviously, most people didn't want to die, but most people also didn't come _back_ to navel-gaze on the subject.  Fiona couldn't really remember the first two times. In each case, SAM had acted quickly, and she only had muddled flashbacks with no aftereffects. But this most recent instance, violently cut off from SAM and left to expire on Khi Tasira...this one lingered.

Both Lexi and SAM said there was no permanent damage, and SAM wasn't inextricably linked to her life any more.  That was, in and of itself, a minor miracle.  And in the long run, restoring her implant to default Pathfinder functionality was probably good for both of them.  She didn’t have to worry about dying if she lost her symbiont, and SAM wouldn’t be such a tempting target for her enemies.

Still, everything fucking _ached_.  Between losing SAM, brute-forcing Remnant interfaces, then fighting through a robot army for her brother, she'd pushed body and mind to the absolute limit.  Only momentum, Lexi's stimulants, and the knife's edge between terror and rage had carried her through.

Now she was walking, talking, breathing again--and it was _awful_ despite Lexi's best efforts.  Her head pounded in bright light.  Her limbs felt like jelly.  The world teetered when she walked too fast.  Even SAM was feeling it, through her.

 _Fiona,_ he said over their private channel as she pulled on some respectable clothes over her pajamas. _There are celebrations taking place in the Atrium.  I suggest moderation._

Fiona laughed.  Even that felt weird, with a raspy edge to it.  "I'm not planning on getting sloshed.  I think both of us need a break."

_I can contact Dr. T'Perro, if you wish. I am sure she would be willing to make excuses on our behalf._

It was a tempting offer.  But Tann, Addison, Kandros, and Kesh had finally arrived on Meridian, and she really couldn't avoid them for much longer before Tann started battering down her door.  Besides, the human ark crashing into an alien dyson sphere was a big deal.  Who knew what Nexus leadership might do--or say--if she kept putting them off? She took a deep breath to brace herself for the inevitable onslaught of nonsense.

"Ready?" she asked SAM.

 _Ready_.

"I don't know what these idiots want, but if I pass out from screaming at them, don't revive me.  I want to make a point."

_Understood, though I suggest a more diplomatic approach._

As it turned out, Fiona didn't have to scream.  All things considered, it went rather well.  But meeting with politicians was the absolute last thing Fiona wanted to do at the moment.  Addison's stupid voice felt like an electric toothbrush in her ear, her fingers itched to punch Tann despite the lingering aches and pains, and when Kesh brought up Morda, Fiona nearly suggested the cranky krogan as ambassador out of sheer spite.

When she told them to just listen to Moshae Sjefa and fuck off already, at least they had the decency to do just that.  Kesh lingered for a bit, giving Fiona a worried look.

"Drack said you were tough for a human," said Kesh. "Hang in there, Pathfinder."

"Thanks."  Despite herself, Fiona grinned.  Quite the compliment coming from a krogan.  "I think I'll just crawl into a hole and hibernate."

"Not for too long.  You have a lot to celebrate, and Drack isn't getting any younger waiting at the bar."

Fiona did not want to celebrate.  She wanted to slink back into Dad's room, or SAM node.  But Scott was still asleep, and his ordeal had been as bad as hers.  SAM node was sealed for security updates and repairs.  Left without options, Fiona poked her head out into the Atrium and immediately regretted her life choices.

Too bright.  Too many people. Much too loud.  Why couldn't everyone celebrate more gently?

"Hey, SAM," she whispered, an idea popping into her head.  "Cloak me so I can reach the Tempest without getting accosted?"

_The Tempest is currently docked for repairs.  There will be some maintenance staff aboard._

"I don't care.  I just want to lie down in my own bed."

_Without your armor's power source, I cannot maintain the full duration of tactical cloak.  Move quickly if you wish to avoid attention._

So she power-walked.  Invisibly.  Across the Atrium, dodging around people in every direction.  It was a stupid idea, but luck was on her side for a change, because no one noticed the invisible girl hurrying by as fast as she could.  A few people must have heard her, but there was so much ambient chatter that she made it all the way to the Tempest's airlock before her cloak dissipated.  SAM was just bypassing the dock security when she heard familiar footsteps behind her.

"Ah, my darling one!"

Fiona's ears rang in protest.  "Jaal, your affections are so _loud_ sometimes," she complained, resting her forehead against the cool metal of the airlock.

She felt Jaal chuckle as he wrapped his arms around her waist.  "Yours can be too, right?"  Despite her general discomfort, she smiled and leaned back into his embrace, her eyes drifting shut.  He smelled fresh and floral, like the gardens on Aya.  Well...one particular garden on Aya, and the best day of her life.  She could still feel the sunlight on her face, mist coating her skin, and god, the _hunger_ and adoration in Jaal's eyes...

His lips brushed her cheek.  "I think you're blushing."

Another stab of pain went through her temple when he laughed right by her ear, jolting her out of her pleasant daydream.  Her body was just not cooperating.  She squirmed free of him, looking up just in time to see Jaal's goofy smile fade into a look of concern.

"Sorry," she said.  "I'm just--dying feels like crap, you know?  Like the worst hangover in the galaxy.  Lexi says I’ll be good within a week, though.”

Jaal frowned.  "But right now, you are in pain."  He ran his thumb over her cheek, carefully studying her face.  "Darling one, why didn't you say something?"

"Everyone else is celebrating."  The airlock slid open behind them as SAM finished his hack.  "I figured I'd sneak off instead of being a party pooper."

His frown deepened.  “I’m not sure I want to know, but what is...a party pooper?”

She had to snicker at the disgusted look on his face.  “It’s not literal.  It just means someone who ruins everyone else’s fun by being miserable.  I...didn’t want to do that.”  

Jaal, being Jaal, didn't give one damn about her feeble excuse.  Instead, he took both her hands in his, blue eyes wide and pleading.  

" _Taoshay_ , I adore your strength and your fierce spirit.  But please, don't hide your pain from me.  Let me see.  Let me help."

Now she really _was_ blushing.  Little gestures like this made her heart flutter, every damn time.  It was second nature to Jaal, but it was still new and precious to her.  That said, she honestly couldn't think of anything for him to do.  Biology--and Lexi's cocktail of healing agents--needed time to take their course.

She gave him an apologetic smile.  "I just need quiet.  And rest.  I won't be very interesting company."

Jaal leaned in close, shielding her from any curious eyes in the Atrium.  "I don't care," he said.  "I'm coming with you."

Without any warning, he gently picked her up and carried her aboard the Tempest, as effortlessly as if she were made of paper.  Fiona yelped in surprise, but the airlock closed behind them before anybody else could come investigate.  She could hear machinery faintly buzzing along the outside of the hull.  For now, it didn't seem like anybody was aboard the ship itself.  She closed her eyes and turned her face into the soft fabric of Jaal's rofjinn, counting his heartbeats.

He took the elevator down to the lower deck, keeping his steps measured and steady.  "Do you need any food?" he asked when they passed the galley.  "Water?"

She shook her head.  "Maybe later."

"Darling one, I can't hear you with your face buried in my clothes."

Fiona giggled, leaning her head back so she could look up at him.  "Sorry.  I said later.  By the way, you look very dashing from this perspective."

"Of course I do."  His eyes lit up, and he also started to laugh, more softly than before.  "I _am_ rescuing you from your own victory party."

They were both still grinning like idiots when they finally reached Fiona's quarters.  Jaal had been in here a few times before, but never for long.  Only movie night and a few other lovely evenings, stolen from the chaos that had led them to Meridian.  Jaal slowly lowered her onto the bed.  When he reached down to help her take her boots off, she caught his wrist.

"I'm not an invalid," she said.  It sounded petulant, even to her, but she couldn't help it.  She hated feeling this useless.  Mom used to say that she and Dad were both terrible patients.

Jaal made a soft grumbling noise, one that she recognized as exasperation.  " _Gosan yav daar_.  Will you sleep or struggle with your clothing?"

He had a point, and Fiona didn't have it in her to argue.  "Ugh.  Fine.  You win."  She sunk back into the blankets and let go of his hand.

Jaal had undressed her before.  But this time, all the minute details shifted imperceptibly into something completely different.  He never took his eyes off her face, watching for any sign of discomfort or pain.  His hands moved by touch and memory alone, feeling for the clasps on her jacket.  The laces on her boots.  The knot in her scarf.  There was no urgency, no longing, no sudden shock of discovery.  Just warmth, and oh-so-gentle pressure.

"Sit up," he said, supporting her back as she did so.  He helped her shrug out of the sleeves, carefully folded up her jacket and scarf, and set them aside.  "Are you alright?"

Fiona nodded.  Any coherent speech had fled again, as it so often did with Jaal.  So she just watched him, and drowned in those warm, worried eyes.  With anybody else, she would have said something to deflect that concern.  But not with Jaal.  Not with this beautiful, strange, _wonderful_ man who made even her bad days worthwhile.  Some of her thoughts must have shown on her face, because he smiled a little and leaned down to rest his forehead against hers.

It started as a soft hum, radiating out from the spot where their skin touched.  Fiona gasped, startled, then melted into a sigh of relief as Jaal's bioelectricity washed over her temples and down the base of her neck.  The gentle hum waxed and waned, easing away her headache's sharp edges with each slow breath from Jaal.  He lingered like that for a few moments, a pleased smile spreading across his face.

"I thought that might work."  He kissed the very tip of her nose before pulling back from her.  "I have some more ideas for later."

"Oh?"  Fiona raised one eyebrow suggestively, then remembered that particular gesture never translated well.  "Why not now?"

Jaal smiled and shook his head.  "Because that is not what you need right now."  He slowly lifted her legs to remove her pants, leaving her only in the loose T-shirt and little shorts that she'd slept in.  "Are you cold?" he asked, moving the neatly folded pile of clothes to her dresser.

"No.  But...stay with me?"

She felt a little stupid for even asking when Jaal's whole face broke into a brilliant smile.  He shrugged off his rofjinn, draped it over her, and propped her other pillow up against the headboard.  Human mattresses weren't really made for angara, with their broader shoulders and alien legs; she'd have to invent a solution for that, and soon.  For now, Jaal eased into a sitting position with the extra pillow at his back.  Fiona snuggled up next to him, her head resting on his thigh.

Through the windows, the interior of Meridian stretched over the Tempest in an endless arc.  A boundless mystery teeming with potential--and the ugly scar that traced Hyperion's crash.  She could just make out the silhouettes of Remnant, already repairing the damage from the battle.  No medical instruments.  No drugs to induce sleep.  Just Jaal's slow and even breathing.

"Jaal?" she mumbled before her eyes closed.

"Yes?" 

"You're the best.  Thanks."

She missed the look of relief and satisfaction on his face, and the way his eyes softened as he watched her drift into sleep.  Jaal waited until her breathing was deep and even, lips parted, eyelashes fluttering in some unknowable dream.  Then he drew the rofjinn more tightly around her and brought up elcor Hamlet on his omnitool to pass the time.

"Deep introspection: Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave us not that capability and god-like reason to fust in us unused..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! Special thanks to [kestrel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KestrelShrike/pseuds/KestrelShrike) for being my second pair of eyes :)


	2. Chapter 2

The tech lab still housed most of Jaal's personal effects--bedding, cosmetics, clothing, and jars of nutrient paste.  He'd learned not to leave the nutrient paste in the galley ever since a sleep-deprived Liam mistook it for "applesauce."  Whatever that was sounded like a disease to Jaal, though Liam assured him it was delicious.

"SAM?" he asked quietly.  He still felt strange speaking to...nothing, and he had a feeling it would always be strange.  No face, no eyes, no body, not even inflection in the artificial intelligence's voice.  If not for Fiona, he would never have known that SAM was a person instead of a piece of equipment.

"Yes, Jaal?"

"Is Fiona still asleep?"  Jaal lined up his bottles of fragrance, studying each in turn.

"I am monitoring brain activity throughout her sleep cycle.  Based on previous experience, she should be awake within ten minutes."

Jaal nodded, then remembered that no one was in the room with him--though SAM must have access to cameras somewhere.  "Thank you."

He went back to his fragrances, sniffing each in turn.  He needed something milder, something that didn't rely on bioelectricity for its full effect.  His eyes fell on an unopened white jar, a gift from his true mother the last time they'd docked on Havarl.  When he lifted the lid, an intensely rich and smoky medley of odors filled the room--delightful, and probably very expensive.  

Then he turned the jar around--the label read "Sensual Harmony."

"Mother..." Jaal grumbled, feeling a fierce blush rush into his cheeks.  Definitely not what he had in mind, at least not at the moment.  At least Sahuna hadn’t given the stuff to Fiona herself.

Eventually he settled on the simplest fragrance he had--just paripo skin and some synthetic compounds, soft and sweet.  He added a few drops to a bottle of clear mineral oil; from what he could tell, this substance seemed to be compatible with almost every species.

"SAM?" he asked again just to be safe.  "Do humans have reactions to any of these ingredients?"

"No, and if the Pathfinder did, I would log any adverse effects and compensate for them during your intimate encounters with her."

 _Intimate encounters_.  How could any living being describe love in such a cold and clinical way?  Jaal frowned.  "Do you really feel nothing when she and I are together?" he asked, unable to stop himself.

"I share sensory data and experiences with the Pathfinder," said SAM after a brief pause.  "And I learn from each."  SAM hesitated again, and Jaal was suddenly, forcibly reminded of Fiona feeling her way through first contact with his own people.  Carefully choosing each word.  

"However,” SAM added, “I was not designed with emotions, and I will understand if you find this trait unsettling."

Jaal gave it some thought while shaking up the bottle of mineral oil.  Humans, and especially turians, didn't always share their emotions, and he had learned how to interact with them.  But that was fundamentally different from having no emotions at all.  Then again, none of the Milky Way aliens had a taon either, and they didn't seem to feel its absence.  Perhaps it was the same with SAM.

He gave the mineral oil a quick sniff to make sure it wasn't too strong.  "I...don't know what to think of you much of the time," he said to SAM.  "But I didn't understand humans when they first arrived.  I want to understand you too.”

It was probably just his imagination, but there seemed to be a faint hint of relief in SAM's answer.  "I appreciate your candor.  Fiona is also awake now, should you wish to join her."

"Thank you, SAM."

With the safety issue settled, Jaal finished gathering up everything else he would need--a soft towel, warm water, a cosmetics bowl to carry all of it--then headed off to the galley for some food for Fiona.  She probably hadn't eaten anything all day.  But when he opened the refrigerator door, he found himself staring down a dizzying hodgepodge of different containers.  Some labeled, some unhelpfully blank.  At least the ominously dark liquid marked "DRACK'S. PISS OFF, THIEVES" was very obvious.

"The Pathfinder keeps her food on the top shelf, toward the right," said SAM.

Thank the stars for Fiona.  Her food was all neatly stacked and labeled, though he didn't recognize over half of it.  He still had so much to learn about her, and she about him.  He searched through the containers until he found something he'd seen before--breakfast porridge.  He set the automated reheat timer, carefully balanced everything in his arms, and made his way down to her quarters.

SAM opened the locked door for him, since his hands were full.  Inside, Fiona was already awake, with his rofjinn slightly askew across her shoulders.  He stopped in his tracks, taking a few moments to appreciate how beautiful she was with her sleep-tousled hair.  Someday, he might grow accustomed to the striking color, but not today.  Today, she was just as fascinating as the first day he laid eyes on her.

She sat up and yawned, her eyes lingering on the cosmetics bowl and its contents.  "Hey, handsome.  What's all of this for?"

"You," he answered.  "First, you should eat.  Even I know humans can't survive on stubbornness and air."  Jaal sat down on the edge of her bed, set the cosmetics aside for now, and handed her the container of porridge.

"Since when did _you_ become an expert on alien biology?" she teased.

Jaal chuckled.  "I fell in love with one."  It was so improbable, but even when they'd first met, she made his heart beat faster.  At the time, he thought it was just suspicion, curiosity, or an uncomfortable mix of the two.  How could he have known that she'd traveled six hundred years to be here, with him?

Fiona didn't say anything, but her smile and the warm blush on her cheeks were answer enough.  She moved over to make room for him on the bed, leaning against his shoulder when he wrapped his arm around her waist.  While she ate, Jaal resumed elcor Hamlet.

_"Mournful song: For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy--"_

_"Conflicted realization: Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself, she turns to favor and to prettiness."_

Fiona nearly choked on her food.  "Elcor Ophelia doesn't actually sing that bit?" she said, indignant.  "What a waste.  I hope they kept the swordfight in--"

"Shh," Jaal said, not wanting her to spoil the surprise.  "I haven't reached that scene yet."

"Jaal, it's _Hamlet._ You can find the script anywhere."

"I stopped reading before Act 2.  The text just isn't the same."

She rolled her eyes at him, but let the rest of the scene play in silence.  For his part, Jaal couldn't stop thinking about poor Laertes.  Losing a father to violence, a sister to madness, and now potentially a friend...even human fiction captured the fragile nature of their small families.  Then he looked back at Fiona, and remembered how the Tempest crew had become her family when she felt like an orphan.  How she came back from every loss, stronger than before, even returning from beyond the jaws of death.  Twice.

"You're staring again," said Fiona with a small smile.  She left the empty food bowl on her bedside table and stretched, extending lovely bare legs across his lap.

Jaal turned off elcor Hamlet and pulled her close, holding her face in his palm.  Sudden tears blurred his vision.  "I was remembering the last time I lost you," he murmured.  "Losing our loved ones has been part of our existence since the kett occupation began.  But you...you came _back_ to me.  You are a _miracle_."

"Oh, Jaal..."  Fiona leaned in to kiss him, a slow brush of her lips against his.  The sharp smell of medbay astringent still lingered on her skin, clung to her hair, but she felt _right_ in his arms.  Warm, soft, her quicker heartbeat fluttering against his.  He trailed slow kisses down her jaw and neck, reveling in her steady pulse under his lips.  Her breath feathering over his skin.  The way her whole body slowly unfolded, and intertwined with his.

Fiona let out a contented sigh.  "If it makes you feel better, I don't plan on dying again.  I think I've pushed my luck enough for one lifetime."

He knew what "pushing one's luck" meant now, thanks to her.  "Good.  I will hold you on that."

" _To_ that," she corrected him.

"Shit."

They laughed together, the sound warm and bright.  "How do you hold _to_ something?" Jaal grumbled.  "That doesn't even make sense."

Saying that only made Fiona laugh harder at him, and his irritation at the intricacies of alien language melted away.  She was always endearing, but especially like this--her eyes crinkled and her nose scrunched, shifting the little brown freckles on her face in the most enticing way.  So he had to kiss her again, more deeply this time--she tasted a little sweet from the porridge, and he felt her lingering smile when she slid her hand to the sensitive skin on the back of his head.  

Jaal moaned into the kiss, wanting to return the gesture, and so much more.  But she was supposed to be resting, and they had all the time in the galaxy after she’d recovered.  

"Temptress," he murmured as he reluctantly pulled back from her.

"I'll behave," she said unconvincingly.  Jaal had heard that one before--usually before things like driving off cliffs, outrunning Remnant purification fields, and falling out of the sky.

Before she could distract him further, he reached for the cosmetics bowl still sitting on her bedside table.  He took a deep breath.  The gesture he had planned should translate across species, but he could never be sure unless he asked.  "I have a surprise for you," he said.  "If you are feeling better now."

She sat up in his lap, a sudden spark of curiosity in her eyes.  Yet another of the many, many things he adored about her.  "Yeah.  I'm good.  I'm _great_."

Jaal chuckled.  "Then take this off," he said, tugging on the hem of her shirt.  "And lie down on your stomach."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, what a response! Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoy the conclusion!


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